


Because

by leoraine



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-02-12
Updated: 2011-02-12
Packaged: 2017-10-15 14:42:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,075
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/161843
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/leoraine/pseuds/leoraine
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>One shot, Dean's Pov. He needed to know. Post Devil's Trap.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Because

**Author's Note:**

> A/N: Okay, this came to my mind after I read the fic 'Take this longing' from Sgt. Psycho. I highly encourage you to read it, because it is fantastic.
> 
> This story was originally posted on the net before the actual episode of the second season aired, basing certain facts on spoilers all around, so it might go in a different path.
> 
> Warning: spoilers up to Devil's Trap and the unaired first episode of the second season.
> 
> Note: My thanks go to TangledPencils who betaed this fic for me.

"I am sorry, Sam."

Dean heard the words his mother had said and couldn't stop the flinch. She was sorry for Sam. For his life. For everything. She wasn't sorry for Dean. No one was sorry for Dean.

Not back in Lawrence, not when he was dying. Not when Sammy, the brother he would die for, pointed the gun at him and squeezed the trigger, not once but several times. And definitely not his father, when he was trying to rip his heart out in that small cabin.

What was it with the Winchester men trying to kill him every time they got possessed, anyway?

No, no one was ever sorry for what happened to Dean, because it was all part of the job. Funny how no one realised that the job was his life, the only one he had.

The job of a hunter and older brother, a guardian, a soldier!

Because that was who he was. All in one package, all given to him in the form of a small moving bundle handed to him the night the fire started. Somehow, the fire never burned out, just like his job was never finished. Not until they got the demon with the big D, not until Sammy was out of danger. Maybe not until the day Dean died.

But that was funny about dying. Somehow, Dean couldn't. They always brought him back. Sammy had ripped him from the clutches of the reaper twice, even though Dean was content to exchange his life for Layla's. Why did the Reverend choose him, anyway? Because he had an unfinished job... right. And there lay the question.

"Why did you bring me back, Sammy?" only he didn't ask it. Not then, and definitely not now. No, why Sam had brought him back he could understand. After all, letting him die would mean that Sam was alone for the big fight, and that wasn't a thing either of the brothers wanted to think about.

No, the big question was – why did John Winchester sacrifice so much in order to stop Dean from dying in that damn hospital. He was so close. And for the first time, he was also ready. Not because the words his father/demon told him at the cabin, though they had hurt…all the more because Dean realised there was some truth behind them.

Dean was simply tired. Not the physical tiredness that cut deep into the bones, though he'd felt that rather clearly when he was half slumped in the back of his Impala and listening to his father chewing Sam out that he in fact didn't kill him. No, this was the deep, cutting to the bones tiredness of his soul.

He couldn't keep it up anymore. The endless fight against the demon who always seemed to win…and every time it did it took something more from their family, ripping them further apart. He couldn't keep on fighting for Sammy, when he knew that his brother would duck the moment this all ended, if it ever did. He couldn't help but feel as if Sam was just tolerating the hunt, and 'his' presence only because he knew that it had to be done. Dean was tired of people dying for the demon or because of the demon. And he was tired of killing – for Sammy, for his family.

And once he realised this and was ready to let go, once he was feeling the relief that maybe this time, all the pain could vanish and he won't have to fight anymore, something changed and the reaper vanished in a deathly scream. The chance for a reprieve was gone and Dean was harshly pulled back into the reality of the hospital, of his battered body full of pain, into the world where he had to fight again.

And he still hadn't asked the question, not out loud.

He lay in the bed, waiting for his brother or his father to come, to explain. He knew he would never be able to give them the question, but he needed to ask. So into the silence of his room, he opened his mouth and said it out loud.

Why did you bring me back?" and in a moment, he added, eyes closing in despair. "Who am I to you, Dad?"

A son? Or just a soldier in the big war, a protector of the other one, the special one. Because that was Sammy. Always someone special, for his father, for Dean... for his mother. So who was Dean?

"You're my brother, Dean," came the reply and Dean looked up, startled when he saw Sam standing in the doorway. "Because I need you to help me fight this demon," he said and Dean closed his eyes, fearing his thoughts, what the demon said, was truth. That they didn't need him, not like he needed them. Yeah, they needed him like a fighter, while Dean needed them as a family, the only one he ever had and will have. The safe line.

"But mostly, we brought you back because we love you, you jerk," Sam said in a low voice and Dean's eyes opened with a snap. He blinked ,unsure if he'd heard right, but the smile on Sam's face was real and the warmth coming from his eyes sent away the chill that had settled in Dean's bones from the moment he'd picked up the damn phone and heard Meg's voice.

"Thanks," Dean muttered, unable to say more, suddenly brushing at his eyes with an annoyed sigh. Sam understood and left him alone to compose himself, knowing that they wouldn't talk about this when he came back.

"I love you too, you bitch," Dean mumbled into the empty room, a slight smirk starting on his face. Maybe he didn't get all the answers, but he got the one he needed, even if it wasn't his father who gave it to him. The door opened and Dean looked up, expecting to see his brother with a cup of coffee, just so he could annoy the hell out of him. But instead of Sam, there was another man and Dean winced. Suddenly, he wasn't prepared to meet him. Not alone, not so vulnerable. But he was here and Dean couldn't ignore him.

"Dad?" he asked and waited, feeling that his father would give him the answer. He just wasn't sure he wanted to hear it anymore.

The End


End file.
